Counting Sheep
by sinamor
Summary: There were three types of terror, and he embodied every one of them.
1. Chapter 1

"_The 3 types of terror: The Gross-out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, it's when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm. The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, it's when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. And the last and worse one: Terror, when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It's when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you hear it, you feel its breath against your ear, but when you turn around, there's nothing there_..."-** Stephen King**

Her dreams have been strange lately. Very strange.

They all started in a dark room. A dank room.

A silent room of dust and grim. The bedroom of a child, it's colorful wallpaper now torn and gray. Blank and broken over years of neglect. It wasn't the usual fantastic dream that she thought of on most nights. There were no magical cities in the sky or pirates pillaging at a lagoon. It wasn't even close to that. But she didn't brood, she didn't fret over it.

Until she started hearing the scratching.

* * *

When the bell finally rang at the end of the day, Gracie had rushed to get out of that damn school. She found herself shoving past kids to get to her locker, calling out sincere apologies to them as she continued forward. She cursed under her breath as she pestered with the lock of her hallway locker, before throwing her school textbooks into her backpack and advancing toward the front entrance.

Gracie was fourteen years old, a young freshmen starting her first year at Springwood High. She was an slender child with a fair complexion, and a head full of bright auburn wavy hair. Her eyes were a dull brown, and her cheeks were sprinkled with a light dusting of freckles.

The afternoon sun greeted her warmly as she stepped out onto the concrete. The bright yellow school buses were all lined in a row on the street, with teens of all shapes and sizes scrambling inside to get a good seat. If there was one thing Gracie was thankful for, it was that she didn't have to ride her bus. Her home was less than a few blocks away, making easy transport from A to B. She would take a nice stroll over being stuffed in a car with sweaty kids any day of the week.

Scanning the sea of children, Gracie's eyes brightened as spotted her old sister, Peyton. She stood near the maple trees on the far side of the school grounds, chatting away with her current boyfriend, Wade.

Peyton was sixteen years of age, Wade being a year old than her. Gracie was different than her sister in terms of appearance, who had short platinum blonde hair. Dyed, of course. Speaking of that, she needed to redo her roots, Gracie noted with interest. You could practically see her natural brown hair peeking out a few inches from the top.

Gracie felt slightly hesitant to go over to the duo, knowing Peyton didn't like to talk to her while at school, as apparently hanging out with your little sister is "uncool" and will "ruin her reputation". A smirk pulled at Gracie's lips, since when did you have a good reputation, Peyton? Getting caught smoking weed with friends in the school bathroom isn't considered a good reputation in anyone's book.

She quickly wandered away from that thought. There was no point in scrutinizing her sisters choices, Gracie definitely wasn't a perfect angel either.

With no more hesitation, Gracie made her way to her sister.

"Peyton," She called as she got close, informing the couple of her presence.

The two glanced over at her, their conversation suddenly dieing out at her intrusion.

"Hey." Peyton greeted her blankly, an ounce of annoyance visible in her tone. "You need something?"

Gracie shook her head. "No. Just wanted to talk to you is all."

A frown rose on Peyton's lips. "Can't you see I'm a little busy?" She then eyed Wade, who stood near her watching the two with hands tucked in his sweatshirt's pocket.

"But I don't like walking home alone. I thought we could hang out today." Gracie said, trying not to sound too desperate or whiny.

"Too bad." Peyton quickly dismissed her, turning to face Wade again.

Gracie tried again, "Please, Pey-"

"_No_." Was all that she received back.

Gracie huffed in irritation through her nostrils, the thought of grabbing Peyton's ponytail and tossing her to the floor came to mind but she quickly shooed it away. Don't sink to her level, It'll only turn yourself into what you hate most.

Not wanting to stay any longer Gracie turned and made her way down the sidewalk, not bothering to look back as Wade and Peyton started making out. She could never really understand why her sister was so hostile toward her sometimes. She really only acted like that around her friends, at home she wasn't too bad. Just a little obnoxious.

While she was at it, she took the time to admire the scenery around her. Autumn was clearly approaching, as the tall trees above her were taking on a yellow and orange tint in their leaves. It won't be soon before they start to fall off. And then she'd have yard-work raking those pesky leaves for weeks. She would have to get Peyton to do some of that sometime, although she doubted that her sister would comply without a fight. She walked for awhile admiring the trees and homes which surrounded the community.

"I double dare ya to go inside!" A nasally voice suddenly caught her attention.

Gracie turned her head to find the owner of the voice. Her eye's widened as she discovered the offender...or offenders in this case. Two young boys, maybe nine or ten in age stood in the rough looking front lawn of home 1428. Also known as "A really fucked up house." Or at least that's what Peyton's boyfriend, Wade, referred to it as. It's history was unknown to her, but she knew from it's appearance that it has gone through a hell of a beating.

Abandoned and falling in grave despair, it's white paint now turned to a rustic mix of gray and brown. Some shutters were missing, some of the windows boarded up, paint peeling, and the lawn was ripped and ragged. There was some vulgar graffiti etched on the walls, although she couldn't really make out the complete words.

But if there was one thing she could make out, it was that the home was creepy as hell.

"I don't know, Davie." The other boy, the more timid one, mumbled with uncertainty.

"Chicken! That's what you are, Travis." Davie sneered right in the boy's face, poking him roughly in the chest.

"No! It's just creepy." Travis retorted weakly.

"Damien was right. You are a wimp."

Gracie felt a rising uneasiness watching the two boys bicker and argue. It was time to make her presence known. She cleared her throat before speaking up. "What do you idiots thinking you're doing?"

Idiot wasn't a word she used often against people, only when necessary. The two boys immediately stopped their actions, turning their heads to glance at the outsider on the sidewalk. They eyed her with incomprehension.

Davie, the obnoxious one, was the first to say something. "None of your business, girl. Get lost."

Gracie glared at him, crossing her arms with perfect intent to stay where she was. "Sorry, but when I see two kids walk into Murder House. I gotta speak up."

At hearing that title, Travis' eyes widened in fear, "Murder house?"

"You made that up!" Davie accused her with a shout. He was right though, she did. Not that they had to know that knowledge or anything.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." Gracie said nonchalantly. "But the truth is, that house is more than forty years old and counting. It's falling apart. Ready to collapse any second, and if you two happened to be inside-" She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, "You as good as dead."

The boy's stared at her for a few silent moments, thinking of their choices. Option 1, don't go inside and look like a pussy in front of an older girl. Option 2, go inside and possibly die. Hm. Decisions, decisions.

A few silent seconds passed.

"I'm out." Travis finally announced, walking forward to climb over the short picket fence as he did so. Gracie felt a smug smile creep on her face. Good choice.

"I knew you were a chicken! I can't wait to tell everyone in school that you're afraid of a stupid house!" Davie jeered in Travis' direction, while also continuing to stay at his spot on the leaf-ridden lawn.

"Just ignore him." Gracie murmured sympathetically to Travis as he passed her. He nodded in understanding as she did so.

Gracie watched him walk off, and then turned her head to face Davie who still wouldn't move.

"Go home, kid."

He glared at her for a few moments before letting a sigh escape his lips.

"Screw this." She heard him mutter under his breath, obviously annoyed that his game was ruined, and he headed away from the home. Stepping over the fence he went in the direction that Travis went, purposely not acknowledging Gracie's presence.

Gracie rolled her eyes watching him saunter off. She then turned to glance at home 1428. It stood, a fault in the neighborhood. A stain. She felt a shiver run up her spine while eying the chipped paint and cracked windows. She didn't believe in ghosts but if that home was haunted, frankly, she wouldn't be very surprised.

Not wanting to look at it any longer, Gracie turned and continued her journey down the sidewalk.

_xx_

_Later that evening_.

"Do you have a hair brush that I can borrow?" Her sister's voice broke her out of her studying trance.

Gracie looked up from her History textbook, turning her head from her wooden desk to meet Peyton's, who stood in her bedroom doorway. She eyed her attire, a short jean skirt with a light blue revealing tank top. Her eyes moved back up to look at Peyton's.

"Yeah. On my vanity." Gracie said, nodding to the white Victorian vanity that sat on the far side of her room.

"Thanks." Peyton murmured, immediately heading to grab the plastic hair brush and begin running it through her blonde locks. She eyed her appearance in the vanity mirror as she did, admiring how soft her hair looked on this warm evening. Through the mirror, Peyton could see the longing expression that Gracie held on her face as she watched her from her desk.

"You going somewhere tonight?" Gracie asked, trying to start some kind of conversation. Anything to busy her from doing this awful and boring Social Studies homework.

A smile flashed across Peyton's face as she continued to brush her hair in long strokes, "Wade is taking me to the movies. He's such a sweet guy."

"Ooh, What are you gonna see? A romance?" Gracie asked curiously.

Peyton chuckled, rubbing the smudge of mascara under her eye, "No, dumbass. Not a romance. A horror movie."

Gracie raised a brow, "Why horror?"

Peyton's eyes meet her's from the reflection of the mirror, "Because watching scary movies gives you the chance to cuddle without looking too needy. It's the perfect excuse to get close and have it not come off as PDA."

Gracie's eyes fell back to gawk at Peyton's attire."And why the raunchy outfit?"

"Because I wanna get laid." The blonde said, as if the answer was totally obvious.

"I see." Gracie murmured softly, casting her glance down to the floor. Although she'd never want to admit it out loud, Gracie had always felt a bit of envy toward her sister and the countless cute dates she somehow managed to acquire. Gracie could never say she ever had that luck.

Peyton must of noticed her pained expression, as she paused her hair brushing to look back at her."Don't worry, Sis." She chuckled slightly, "Everyone has sex at least once in their life. I'm sure you'll time will come soon."

Gracie giggled at Peyton's comment, a small blush involuntary rising on her cheeks at the mention of sex. She was only fourteen, didn't think about stuff like that too often. "Whatever you say."

Peyton offered her a teasing smile before putting the hair brush back on the vanity. She then ran a hand through her hair, admiring herself for one last time before turning to head out the door. "I gotta go, he's picking me up in like a minute." She walked out the door before stopping herself. Turning around, she peeked her head back into Gracie's bedroom. "And I'm sorry for being a little bitchy earlier today. But you know how I don't like you talking to me while in front of friends, right?"

Gracie nodded understandingly, "Sure. I get it."

Peyton forced a smile, "Kay cool. See you later." She then turned and headed down the hallway.

Gracie watched her walk off, letting out a heavy sigh out as she did so. Peyton could be so egotistical sometimes, but she was her sister. That counted as something, right? Focusing back onto her History book, she scribbled a few notes onto her notebook about the Industrial Revolution. Her eyes moved up to the small alarm clock which sat on her desk. It read 8:45 pm. She surprisingly felt a yawn rise in the back of her throat. Gracie hadn't been getting much sleep lately, her new classes proving to be much more difficult than she could of ever anticipated. High school was a lot more tougher than Middle school. If only someone would of told her that earlier.

Her eyes shut for a second, and she enjoyed the few moments of peace before forcing them open again. Gripping her pencil, Gracie wrote a few facts down onto her paper, ignoring the urge to rest her head atop the desk. Can't sleep now, Gracie reminded herself. You gotta pass this History test.

_A/N: This will probably be moved to a M rating soon. And reviews are really appreciated!  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Wade had his arm around her. It felt good, so Peyton leaned in.

The movie was nothing impressive. A regular slasher flick with tons of fake blood and screaming teens. Not to mention some pretty shitty special effects. Wade had made a game to point them out to her like ten times, almost getting them kicked out for being too loud. He could be such a blabbermouth sometimes.

After the movie, Wade kept his arm around her as he guided her out with the crowd and into the small parking lot. It was a cool night with a slight breeze. Peyton shivered, regretting wearing just a flimsy top and skirt.

"I guess you didn't like the movie as much as I did." Wade said, looking down at her.

Peyton smiled up at him, "No. I liked it." She lied.

"Were you scared?" He chuckled teasingly, nudging her on the shoulder.

"Oh yeah. Totally." She replied back sarcastically.

His arm left her shoulder as he climbed into his pick-up truck. Peyton followed, getting into the passenger seat. She settled back in the chair. Relax, she reminded herself. Wade started the car, it's engine roaring with life. It was a pretty large truck, maybe too large. But Wade did like his toys, no matter how unnecessarily over dramatic they were.

Peyton rolled down her window, letting the cool air breeze hit her face. Wade pulled out of the parking lot with ease, making the tires squeal. They didn't drive very far, about a block from the Theater, before he pulled and parked his car on a deserted road right near the Springwood park.

Peyton glanced around, surprised. "Why here?"

Wade looked over at her, a familiar gleam shining in his dark eyes. "I don't know. Must be lost." A crooked grin appeared on his face, and Peyton felt herself blush.

Man, he was handsome. With his dark brown hair and stocky built. How did she get so lucky?

"I don't mind." Peyton smiled back at him, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

Wade leaned over in his seat, bringing his face toward her own. Peyton had her eyes locked on his, her heart pounding in anticipation. But she quickly found that kissing was really awkward in a car. For one thing, their seats were buckled, making getting close a challenge. The two tangled to get out of their seat belts. Untwisting herself, a familiar thought ran through Peyton's mind and she suddenly felt a little cautious.

With a deep breath, Peyton clicked her seat belt open. Wade reached for her.

"Wait." Peyton said, pulling her face away.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't want to say it, but she was nervous. "Nothing." She said blankly. "It's just- cramped in here."

Wade uttered an irritated sigh. He sat back in his seat and stared straight ahead in silence. Finally he turned back to face her. "You said you were ready tonight. I thought this was romantic?"

Peyton suddenly felt bad for being such a prude. "I'm sorry, Wade. My mind is just elsewhere."

Wade sighed deeply, "What's wrong?" he asked finally. "You have been acting kind of distant lately."

"I've been having weird dreams." Peyton confessed.

Wade's eyebrow knotted in confusion, "About what?"

Peyton gulped, twiddling her fingers in her lap before speaking,"I walk through a deserted home. It's dark and there's cob webs everywhere. There's these strange noises- I don't know. Like someone scratching a chalk board."

Wade's face remained blank.

"I try to run away, but there's this person. I can't see him. But he's there." Peyton continued onward. "I always wake up before anything bad happens."

Wade was silent for a few moments, before running a hand through his short hair. "Sound's freaky." He finally commented.

"It is." Peyton said, staring down at her lap.

The two became quiet, each thinking about what they just heard.

_xx_

Gracie had finally managed to memorize all she needed to know for her History test that was coming up. A few pages of scribbled notes later and she felt ready to conquer any written formative on the Industrial Revolution and late 1800s United States. With a sigh of relief, Gracie closed the textbook and stood from her chair. Glancing at the alarm clock, the time 10:03 pm flashed back at her. God, she'd been studying for over an hour! It had barely felt like ten minutes.

She made a glance out her window. In the pale light from the moon, she could see a few leaves dropping from the old maple tree that grew right next to her window. She took it as a good sign. The closer to Autumn, the closer to Halloween. And if there was one thing Gracie loved, it was Halloween. From the candy to dressing up as anything your heart desired, not to mention the entertaining horror movie marathons that ran all night on TV. How could you not like it?

Gracie let a yawn escape from her. She really was tired, it had been a long day after all. Moving to her wooden dresser, she pulled out a night shirt from the top drawer. She then began to remove her day clothes, unzipping her jean shorts and letting them sink to the floor and pulling off her tight pink sweater. She undid her bra, letting it rest atop her pile of dirty clothes. She felt instantly relieved slipping on the loose night shirt, which came to rest right above her thighs.

After brushing her teeth and hair, Gracie was finally able to crawl into her bed. Slipping under her lilac sheets, she rested her head atop her pillow, letting her eyes shut and her vision fade.

She had began dreaming, but she wasn't really sure. No one really questioned when it happened, it just sorta came about and you accepted it. She was falling, or floating? She couldn't tell. But she felt weightless, like a stress had been pulled off of her. A red haze surrounded her form, covering all that was visible. Red was a pretty color. It reminded her of fire. Strong billowing fire.

It suddenly grew heavier, darker. Taking on a harsh black form, the form of smoke. Through the sheet of mist she could see a figure. A tall, lanky figure. A feeling of unease washed over her, with a mix of curiosity.

She tried moving herself forward to the figure. She wanted to see who it was. Scratch that, she needed to see who it was. But she couldn't. She couldn't move. At all.

The haze deepened, enveloping her entire body like a blanket. And then everything turned black.

A strange ringing noise could be heard. It was loud, right in her ear. The smell of copper and gasoline filled her nostrils.

Her eyes readjusted and she found herself in a dark hallway, the walls of brick and concrete. The faint sound of water dripping echoed in the far distance, only further pushing her curiosity. A rush of cold air whooshed down the narrow hall, causing Gracie's skin to raise in goosebumps. Now was about the time that she regretted not wearing pants tonight. She crossed her arms, rubbing at them in an attempt to warm up.

The sound of a faint groan came from behind her. Gracie glanced backward, but her eyes were met with nothing but darkness. A small shudder ran through her whole body. Whoever did that, or whatever did it, she had no desire to find out. Without a second look back, she headed down the opposite direction of the corridor, into the dark abyss.

She had stopped in place when it came to an opening. There was a split in the hallway, one leading into the left direction, the other leading into the right. Gracie contemplated her decision for a few seconds before being broken out of her trance by a noise. Footsteps. Right behind her. Her whole body froze for a moment, eyes widened with dread.

"Run." The brush of a rough voice whispered right in her ear.

She didn't need to be told twice. Without even bothering to look at the owner of the voice, she sprinted down the right corridor. Her breath was ragged in her ear, heart thumping painfully fast in her chest. The sound of a faint chuckle came from far behind her. Whoever was back there must of been enjoying themselves at her expense. She didn't want to find out who.

Go, just go. She pushed her legs further. She really started to regret quitting Track back in sixth grade. It would be beyond useful right now.

Too busy paying attention to her pacing, Gracie failed to noticed the dark stains that splattered the walls and floors. It wasn't until she stumbled forward, slipping and accidentally falling into a mass puddle of red, did her judgement come through. A shrill scream escaped from her throat at the sight of all the blood which painted the floor. She stared, horrified and strangely memorized at her reflection through the liquid. That is when she sees a dark figure in the reflection looking down at her, and the glint of four long blades in the darkness. The blades were raised, ready to pounce on their prey.

Gracie whirled herself around, only to be meet with yet again... nothing. No figure, no knife. Nothing.

What kind of dream is this? She demanded to herself. Her brow was furrowed in incomprehension. Everything was all so confusing, so vague.

She quickly stood herself up, not wanting to lay around in the gooey liquid any longer. Looking down, her shirt was now stained with blood, as was her legs and arms. It was strange, she never noticed her dreams having such fine details. Frankly, she never noticed small details like that at all.

That was another thing, Gracie felt scared. Truly and fully scared. As if her life were _actually _on the line or something.

Sticking around wasn't the best idea, she realized that quickly. She had to find her way out of this sickly and cramp corridor and quick. Before that thing, whatever it was, came back.

So she had continued her journey down the hazy corridor, slower this time. She didn't want to fall again.

A loud _clang_ startled her from her thoughts. Looking onward, the walls surrounding her started to rock and crumble slightly. Gracie took a timid step back, trying to decipher what was happening. It wasn't until a tiny slab of concrete broke off from the ceiling did she realize what was taking place. The walls are closing in!

"No, No!" Gracie cried out in panic.

She instantly ran forward, while the corridor simultaneously grew tighter and tighter. Smaller and smaller. Ready to crush Gracie's little body into bits of guts and bone. But she didn't let that happen, she couldn't. Her breathing was beyond ragged right now, her heart pounding through her ears.

A huge wash of relief ran over her at the sight of the large metal door at the end of the hall. It was her only means of escape, she had to get there. She sprinted as fast as she could go, her arms now brushing lightly with the closing walls. It scraped her shoulders, but she ignored it. Meeting the door, she shoved her full body into it. It surprisingly gave through, and she fell forward into the door, slamming onto the floor of the new area with a thud. At the same time behind her, the walls closed in completely. She was so close to death, so goddamn close. But her ordeal was not over yet.

Looking up, she laying was on a metal grate. Gracie pulled herself to a standing position, giving herself a better view of her surroundings. She stood on a long walkway with railings on either side. The large room was illuminated in a fiery red, giving it the look of a burning hell. Pipes of all shapes and sizes fitted the room, each blowing out a sickening thick steam. Long and spiny chains hung from the ceilings and walls.

She couldn't tell where she was, looked almost like a factory. A steel mill, maybe?

No, it was a boiler room. She had learned about them in her study of the Industrial Revolution. They were one of the main sources of power during that time. A cheap and easy way for powering operations and transportation. Not to mention, very dangerous and highly explosive.

Although she never recalled them being this scary looking. A loud screech, like the sound of someone scratching a chalk board, suddenly echoed throughout the room, piercing her ears. Gracie instinctively moved to cover them, but by the time she did the noise had already dispersed.

What the hell was that? She thought worriedly.

A look of alarm was etched on her face, sweat beginning to pour down her forehead from the surrounding heat.

She didn't want to go forward, but knew there was no other option. She couldn't go back, the walls had already tried to crush her. And if she stayed in place, whatever made that 'Screech' sound would no doubt come and find her.

So she walked onward down the catwalk, the billowing steam filling her radar, causing her eyes to water. The pipes alined each side of her, like an endless mass of tubes, guiding her through the boiler. For she had no idea where she was going, or what was there to encounter.

After a few more turns and sweeps, she unceremoniously hit a dead end. Smeared on the wall in front of her, a black-like blood wrote the words "_He lives here.."_

He? Gracie felt the familiar wave of fear. Who is he?

"Pretty Piglet." A raspy and demonic voice purred behind her in amusement, it's breath brushing lightly against the back of her neck.

A vice grip suddenly crushed her arm, ripping her backward with force. Gracie shrieked in pain as her attacker sunk it's sharp fingertips into her shoulders, definitely drawing blood. Before she could even react, she was roughly shoved forward.

Gracie shot up from her bed, her eyes wide as saucers and gasping for air. Her heart was pounding, the noise strong enough to give her a splitting headache. She looked around, everything feeling dizzy. She was in her room. Everything, it was all a dream? Just a simple nightmare.

It was still dark out, the moon shining bright through her window. She pulled her knees up, breathing deeply to calm her shaking body. It felt so real. All of it. From the smoke, to the steam, to that thing that grabbed her. What was that? It was a man, she knew that from it's voice and stance. But who exactly?

He referred to her as 'Piglet'. If that counts for something. Oh and he called her 'Pretty.' Aw, how cute. The first boy to call you pretty and he's some demon monster in your nightmares. You go, Gracie.

She felt a small smile creep on her face at her inner sarcasm.

Swallowing hard, she realized that her throat was blistering dry. She needed some water, that dream had really been quite a workout. She tossed her lilac sheets off her body and stood from her bed. From there she headed out into the hallway and into the bathroom which she shared with her sister. The door opened with an ominous creak and she flipped on the light.

A look of distaste shot across her face at the mirror. Her hair was a tangled and ragged mess, it would take hours to brush that out. She sighed bitterly, turning on the sink faucet and bending down. Splashing some water in her face, Gracie felt instantly relieved, like a weight was pulled off her shoulders. Looking up, she studied her appearance some more, before grabbing a glass cup on the counter and pouring water into it. The wash of cool liquid felt nice on her sore throat, and Gracie swallowed it contently.

"Help me."

Gracie froze in her spot, wondering if her own ears were deceiving her.

"Help me!" It echoed again.

She looked down. The voice was coming from the sink drain. But how? Gracie's fingers gripped the counter and she leaned forward to the drain, fear and uncertainty bright in her eyes.

"Gracie?" The small voice sounded like that of a young child. A girl to be exact.

Gracie gulped, her nerves high. "Hello?"

"Freddy brought us down here." The little voice peeped again.

The name sent shivers up Gracie's spine. Freddy? Who could that be? Whoever it was, she didn't want to know. Her gaze was frozen at the drain, unable to look anywhere else. She must still be dreaming, right? Oh shit.

"Who are you?" Gracie demanded, her frustration mixed with fear.

The voice was silent for a few seconds, before speaking up again.

"I'm Nancy Thompson. I'm his favorite."

Another voice echoed forward, this one a male. "I'm Joey Crusel."

And then another. "I'm Tina Gray."

And another. "I'm Greta Gibson."

Suddenly blood began bubbling out of the drain, it's contents filling the sink fast. Gracie gasped, stepping backwards as a wad of blood flew up into her eye. Gracie held her hand to her closed eye, and ran out of the bathroom quickly.

She froze when she got out into the hallway, her hand immediately leaving her face and resting at her side, shaking. At the end of the hall, covered by the darkness stood the tall figure. It was him, she knew it. Moonlight shined through the large window behind him, enveloping the front of his body. Making his appearance still unreadable to her. Although she could now see the hat that rested atop his head.

Glancing downward, her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of four pointy blades at the end of his right hand. Sharp claws of torment and torture.

Gracie stared at him, unsure of what to do.

Then he began chuckling, whether directed at her, she didn't know. The chuckle was less than amusing to her, still raspy and frightening, with a hint of sadistic delight.

He clicked his blades together, before taking a step forward.

"Now," His voice spoke, horrifying as ever. "I normally don't prefer stealing acts from others.. But that was just too perfect to pass up. I'm sure the clown won't mind."

Gracie furrowed her brow in confusion, "Wh-what?" She stuttered, completely perplexed at what he was referring to.

He ignored her comment, content on walking toward her ever so slowly, his blades shining in the reflected moonlight.

Gracie took a few steps back, her lip quivering. "Stay away from me!" She shrieked at him weakly, trying her best not to break down in sobs then and there. He stopped mid-step, and Gracie actually thought she managed to ward him off. Not a chance. She couldn't see his face, but it was obvious a grin had crept on his lips at her tiny threat.

Gracie whirled around, only to run forward into a rough chest.

She gasped, looking up fearfully at the face of her attacker, who somehow had teleported right behind her. But how? How the fuck was that even possible? His grisly features were now visible in the pale moonlight. He was burned and charred, absolutely revolting in appearance, with piercing black pupils that seemed to dig into her mind. His wardrobe consisted of a stained red and green sweater, dark slacks, beaten work boots, and a dusty fedora that sat perched on his scorched head.

"Leaving so soon?" He sneered in her face, with horrifying claws raised, preparing to strike down on her untouched flesh.

Gracie stumbled backwards with a yelp, dodging the swipe of the blades by mere inches. Without thinking, she ran the opposite direction down the hallway. She sprinted to the window at the end of the hall, his footsteps following closely behind. The flash of the kids in the sink ran through her mind and she did the only thing she could think of. She hurled herself out the window.

A scream rose in sound, like someone's dying shout.

Gracie awoke to herself fighting with her sheets, shrieking and kicking like a wild animal. She tumbled backward off her bed, falling onto her wooden floor with a thud and smacking her head. A pained groan emitted from her lips, as she lay sprawled on the floor. Her head was in a daze, trying to figure out what was going on.

Gracie managed to pull herself up with her elbows, despite the raging headache that began to stir in her skull. Breathing hard, she stared into her dark room. Was she alone?

She jumped as her bedroom door slammed open. Her mother came rushing in, wearing a nightgown and hair up in curlers. She had obviously been fast asleep before, as the bags under her eyes noted.

"Are you alright?" Her mother asked fearfully, her hands moving to turn on the light switch. Gracie squinted as the room lit up, her eyes stinging from the sudden brightness.

"What was that scream?" She heard her mother demand again, more forward this time around.

Gracie realized that it was she who had let out that awful, bloodcurdling shriek.

"Bad dream." She murmured, almost ashamed that she had awoken her mother up.

"Oh thank god." Her mother said relieved, taking time to sit down on the end of her bed. "The way you yelled, I thought a burglar broke in or something..."

"Must of been pretty bad." Gracie looked up to see her sister, Peyton, standing in her doorway. She too wore her pajamas, that consisting of a T-shirt and gray sweatpants. She must of been awoken by the scream also.

Gracie's breathing slowly returned to normal. She forced a smile, pulling herself up off the floor and into a standing position. She took a seat next to her mother, who comfortably put a arm around her.

"It seemed so real." Gracie stammered, almost at a loss for words.

"Well dreams can be like that sometimes. It's probably just the stress of school tearing down on you." Her mother spoke calmly, rubbing her daughter's shoulder for reassurance. Gracie was starting to feel a little brainless, with them treating her as if she was a five year old who had fell down on a swing set.

"Tell it to us." Peyton suggested. "Before you forget about it."

"No." Gracie shook her head. "It was nothing. Really. I barely remember half of it."

"Then why did you scream?" Peyton asked from the doorway.

"Peyton," Her mother scolded, "Don't pester her. If she doesn't want to talk about it she doesn't have to." Her eyes turned to meet Gracie's. "So you don't remember any of it?"

Gracie shook her head.

Her mother nodded understandably, "Good. It's not healthy to dwell on things like that." She smiled at Gracie, but her face remained worried, her eyes puffy. Gracie was starting to feel bad about waking her up. She knew her mother had been having a tons of anxiety with her work and paying the bills. Same with her father, luckily he worked night shifts as a repossession agent out of the county. So she needn't worry about disturbing him.

"Think you can go back to sleep now?" Her mother asked.

Gracie nodded. "Thanks," She murmured as her mother and sister left the room. "Leave the door open." She added. She felt childish for saying that, but she hadn't gotten over her dream yet. No amount of comfort from her mother could ever make her forget about that. She just couldn't shake that fear off. Even though she was safe and awake, she still felt vulnerable.

She thought back to the strange man. He had tried to attack her, but why? It all felt so real, even the burns that painted his grotesque face.

She sighed bitterly, moving her arm up to rub at her left shoulder. She flinched, feeling a stinging pain erupt in that area. Gracie furrowed her brow, pulling her sleeve down and uncovering her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw the markings that were etched on her skin. Four red dots took the spot on the top of her shoulder, her skin having been punctured and left to bleed out. Almost as if someone had dug their nails into her.

Oh no. The man in the boiler. He had been the one to grab her roughly. Gracie stared onward at her wound confusedly. That doesn't make any sense. It was a dream, how could she wake up with a real wound? That wasn't possible.

She must of done it to herself. She nodded at her inner mind's proposal. There was no other way around it, she must of harmed herself while struggling with the sheets. Yea, made enough sense.

She glanced over at her alarm clock. It read 3:25 am.

Gracie didn't go to sleep for the rest of the night, feeling content to browse a magazine catalog instead.

_xx_

The morning had been bland as usual. Gracie pulled herself out of bed at around 7:00 am, threw some decent clothes on, and headed to the bathroom to get ready for a long school day. After fighting with her sister for a chance at the bathroom she had headed down stairs for breakfast. Her mood had definitely risen from the morning sunrise, and she managed to push her nightmare away from her thoughts for the time being.

The appetizing smell of bacon immediately filled her nostrils as she entered the kitchen.

"Morning, dear." Her mother greeted her warmly, handling the pan of meat at the stove.

"Good morning." Gracie smiled, relieved that her mother hadn't decided to make some odd Tofu dish for breakfast. The last thing she wanted was her mom to try some new vegan diet as some healthy alternative. Gracie would take taste over health any day, no matter how many pigs had to be slaughtered for her bacon.

She shuddered slightly, the mention of 'pigs' making her recall her nightmare last night. That man had called her a 'piglet'. What a strange insult. She glanced down at her flat stomach. He must be blind, she figured. I'm not fat at all.

Gracie took a seat at the kitchen table just as her sister walked into the room.

"Hey.." Peyton greeted Gracie as she walked by, before heading toward the fridge. Opening it up, she pulled out left over Chinese food from a few nights before.

"I'm making breakfast, you know?" Her mother informed her, eying the box of cold rice that sat in her hand.

Peyton stood her ground, holding the box close to her chest. "I'm on a diet."

Her mother stared at her for a few moments before shaking her head disappointingly, and turning back to face her pan of sizzling bacon.

"What?" Peyton demanded at her mother's disapproving frown. "I'm trying to watch my weight. Is that bad or something?"

"Just forget it." Her mother muttered. "Are you taking the bus this morning?"

"Wade's picking me up." She announced, heading over and getting a fork out of the drawer. She then made her way to the table, finding a seat across from Gracie.

They sat in silence for a moment, Peyton digging into her white rice, before Gracie decided to speak up.

"How was your date last night?" She asked curiously.

Peyton glanced up at her sister, and Gracie could of swore she saw a look of utter unease flash across her face, but it quickly disappeared in the next moment. "Fine." Peyton muttered, going back to eating her rice.

"Was the movie good?"

Peyton nodded, not bothering to look up this time.

Well somebody isn't a morning person, Gracie frowned at her sister's distant attitude. The date must of been horrible, or maybe the movie was bad.

"Here you go, honey." Her mother placed the plate of bacon along with a glass of milk onto the table in front of her. "Eat up."

"Thanks." Gracie gave her mother a sweet smile.

She ate up all her food graciously, not leaving even a single crumb of bacon behind. Sipping on her milk, she realized really how exhausted her dream had made her. Here she was, devouring food like a starved animal. Maybe that guy was right, she was a piglet.

The loud beeping of a horn erupted from outside.

"There's Wade." Peyton said, standing up from her seat and grabbing her backpack. She brought it over one shoulder and then made her way to the door, not bothering to say goodbye. The door slammed with a thud as she exited.

"What's her problem?" Her mother asked from her spot in the kitchen, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Gracie shrugged nonchalantly, "Not a clue. Her and Wade are probably fighting or something. You know how she can be a _huge_ drama queen sometimes."

Her mother chuckled, "You're right." She paused, staring at her daughter for a few moments. "About that dream-"

"It was nothing, mom. Really." Gracie interrupted, not wanting to further the subject.

"But I've never seen you act so shaken before. Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

Gracie nodded, "Yes." She lied.

Her mother sighed deeply, "Okay then." She decided to change the subject, "Do you want me to drive you to school today?"

Gracie shook her head, "I can walk. Thanks though." She stood from her seat, grabbing her backpack and pulling the sleeves through her arms and onto her shoulders. She winced slightly as the strap dug into her wound from before. Oh yeah, forgot about that tiny detail. Damn, that cut was deep. She couldn't walk with 10 pounds of weight on top of it. That would be hell trying to move.

"Actually," Gracie said, letting her backpack fall slightly, just enough so the straps weren't resting on her shoulders. "Driving sounds like a wonderful idea."

_A/N: Tell me what you think! Was Freddy written good? I don't know if he should be more humorous or not. And the dead kids in the sink scene was a direct reference to Stephen King's IT. Freddy doesn't come off to me as a copycat but I'm sure if the moment was right he would do it without hesitation. _


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks a bunch for the reviews. It's what keeps me motivated and wanting to continue. This chapter went through a ton of editing, I really hate writing dialogue sometimes. And I'm sorry it takes me five years to update, i just run out of motivation often.  
_

Gracie spun the dial on her combination lock for the fourth time. She didn't feel very focused today at all, most definitely from the lack of sleep last night. Not to mention her eyes felt strangely weak, ready to shut any second. She squinted down at the lock, taking time to do a double-take for each number.

Was it right to 13? Or left? Gracie couldn't understand why she felt so forgetful this morning. She ought to know something as simple as this. She had only used this locker like hundred times since the beginning of the school year. She considered asking an administrator but quickly pushed that thought aside. The only thing worse than a freshman was one who couldn't open their locker. That's basic High school rules 101, or at least that's what everyone in Junior high had said.

Gracie pulled down as hard as she could, and the lock finally clicked open. A triumphant smile rose on her lips, and she began loading her Algebra and Biology textbooks onto the top shelf. She took time to glance at her appearance in the small magnet-held mirror that rested on the inside door of her locker. She hadn't really put any effort into her wardrobe this morning, just buying enough time to toss on a pair of black yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and although it was rushed she had to admit, it looked cute. In a 'I'm-too-different-and-hipster-to-care-about-my-appearance' kind of way.

Gracie shoved her English binder far into her locker. With Halloween coming up, the assignment that day had been to read a scary poem about a man who is hunting for the murderer of his daughter. Turns out he was the killer all along, and was gradually going insane by the end of it, his words turning into a jumble of gibberish.

Just what I needed to read! Gracie thought to herself sarcastically.

She pulled out her notebook for Mrs Hughes' history class, snapped her lock closed, and made her way down the crowded hall, following the large stream of noisy students. Only two more periods to go and she'd be out. Thank the lord.

History was located on the first floor. She quickly joined the crowd in the stairwell. Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows that aligned the wall, making her already bright reddish hair appear even lighter. As she made her way onto the solid ground of the first floor, someone nudged her from behind.

Gracie turned around, expecting a close friend to be the one to touch her. Much to her surprise, it was only her sister, Peyton. What could she possibly want?

"I need to talk to you." Peyton said in slight urgency, her voice raised in volume to combat the surrounding chatter.

Gracie rose a brow in disbelief, "What about the whole 'me not bothering you' in school deal? Is that just thrown out the window because you and Wade are fighting now?"

A look of confusion flashed across Peyton's face. "He and I aren't fighting. Never were. Who the hell told you that?"

Gracie shrugged meekly, "I just assumed because you were being really distant this morning. You barely said a word to me."

Peyton glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one was listening in. She then leaned in toward Gracie, her voice low. "That's what I want to talk about."

"Is something wrong?" Gracie asked concernedly, her sister's cautious attitude taking her off guard.

Peyton nodded, "Yes. I think." She paused, glancing downward. "I don't know."

"Well.. Spill it out." Gracie demanded.

Peyton shook her head, "I can't now. Not with so many people around. Here." She took hold of Grace's hand. "Come with me." She turned and began leading her down the hallway. Gracie stumbled trying to keep up with her sister's fast pace as she hurried down the hall, squeezing past kids and teachers. The bathroom door was shoved open and the two girls made their way inside.

It was empty, most people already headed for their next period. Still, Peyton took time to scan the stalls, not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation that would be taking place. Gracie tilted her head, confused at her sister's state of alarm.

"Okay so.. What do you want to talk about?"

There was a long pause. Peyton's mind wondering what was the appropriate thing to say, before sighing deeply and just giving her sister what she desired to hear.

She glanced up at her sister with stern eyes, "That nightmare that you had last night."

Gracie's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the terrible experience that took place the night before. It was nothing, Gracie repeated to herself calmly. Nothing. "What about it?" She asked casually.

"Tell me what happened."

It was nothing, Peyton.

"I don't know." Gracie shrugged nonchalantly, letting herself lean against one of the bathroom sink counters. "Why do you care anyway?"

Peyton rolled her eyes dramatically, "Just tell me what happened!"

Gracie flinched at her sister's sudden outburst. "Okay, okay." She held her hands up in a surrendered motion. "Calm down." She brought her hands down and thought back to the painful night before, recollecting all the memories and piecing them together. "I was walking down some hallway and there.." She rubbed nervously at her arm, "There was this guy following me."

"Did you hear the scratching noises?" Peyton asked further, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Yes!" Gracie exclaimed, "They were like-wait a second." She paused, her brow quirk as she eyed her sister, "How do you know about that?"

"I've been having bad dreams like that too." Peyton stated.

A look of astonishment shot across Gracie's face, not sure if she heard her words correctly."Really?"

Peyton nodded, her face serious. "Yes, for a few weeks now." She glanced downward at her shoes. "But I've been stealing pills out of mom's medicine cabinet to suppress sleeping. I'm tired, so I haven't been acting myself lately."

"Oh I've noticed," Gracie muttered quietly under her breath.

Her head shot up,"What?"

"Nothing." Gracie squeaked quickly.

A few moments of silent passed by, both girls thinking about what to say next.

"What else happened?" Peyton finally asked.

"Uh.."Gracie bit her lip in thought, "I ran into a boiler room." She shuddered, thinking back to how the walls had almost crushed her body until she found the door to the boiler room. "It was so hot. It felt so real too! I could feel the heat on my skin and everything." She paused before taking a breath. "God, it was crazy."

The loud eruption of the school bell knocked her out of her trance. Gracie jumped out of shock at the loud noise. She went tense, standing straight with her ears peaked. Of course, the bell! How could she forget?

"Sorry, Peyton." She mumbled, giving her sister a apologetic look. "I gotta go."

I can't be late for classes, not this time, She thought worriedly.

But before she could reach the bathroom door she was pulled back by a reluctant Peyton. "You can't go." She held her in place firmly by the shoulders, turning her so she was facing away from the door. "You have to say what happened next."

It was a demand, not a question, Gracie realized that quickly. Why was Peyton acting so dramatic? "I'll tell you when we get home." She said. She tried nudging her shoulders out of Peyton's grip, but it was no use. The determined girl was much stronger than her, and easily held her in place.

"Just say it now."

Gracie frowned, eying her sister with annoyance before sighing deeply. "I'm gonna be late because of you."

"Then hurry." Peyton said simply.

"Fine." She huffed, pulling herself out of Peyton's grip and crossing her arms. Peyton's new wired and demanding attitude was really starting to wear thin on her nerves. "Something made me want to venture further, even though I was scared out of my wits. I remember it was so creepy, and steam was everywhere."

Peyton bit her lip nervously, "Did you hear the noises?"

Gracie glanced over at her sister, their eyes meeting. "Yeah. I heard it all right."

"Did you see him?" Peyton asked. Although her dreams had been fairly vague, the man with the bladed hand was always hidden among the shadows. He was dangerous, she knew that for sure. But he was still a mystery to her, making it that much more unsettling.

Gracie nodded, both of their eyes locked onto each others. "He was disgusting. Looked like someone had tossed him into a oven and left him to cook."

Peyton waited, studying Gracie with expressive green eyes.

"He attacked me with his claws. Not like real claws, it was something he wore on his hand." She continued, feeling goosebumps rise on her arms and legs as she thought back to how she had dodged the razors by a little less than a foot.

The room took on a tense vibe as Gracie finished her sentence. A pin dropping could be heard with the way things were going now, both girls contemplating what to say next.

"How the hell could we be having the same dreams?" Peyton finally asked with creased brows.

Gracie shrugged with a dumbfounded look, "It's probably just a coincidence, Peyton. You remember what mom said and stress and school causing nightmares."

Although that explanation was very much possible, it still didn't feel right to Peyton's ears.

"I know," Peyton tiredly ran a hand through her hair, "But that still doesn't explain why we see the same goddamn person."

"Well- What are you suggesting then?" Gracie questioned.

"Don't freak out, Okay? But like- maybe it's a spell or something. Or one of those curses where you pass it onto another person."

"Peyton...What?" Gracie scoffed with raised brows.

"It's totally possible, alright." Peyton was quick to defend herself." That's why I'm really freaked out. I was looking up voodoo hexes online and found this website about a ghost hunting team based in New Orleans and they said most curses take place in an individual's mind, taking on the form of dreams and hallucinations."

Gracie continued staring at her with incredulity. "Is that scary movie from last night getting to your head or-?"

Peyton huffed frustratedly out of her nose, moving to yet again grip Gracie by her shoulders."Look, I'm gonna tell you something that is kinda private." She gulped, calming her high nerves." Okay, here goes. Wade's distant friend, Joey, died about two months ago. He was a heavy drinker, so everyone just assumed it was alcohol poisoning. We were chatting at a party back in July and-"

"You mean smoking?"

That was a low blow, and Gracie knew it.

Peyton narrowed her eyes bitterly at her little sister, her mouth pulled down into a frown. "That's not the point. The point is that he told me about these bad dreams that he was having. _And _he mentioned a weird guy with claws as hands... I've been thinking... that maybe he was having the same dreams that we're having."

Gracie stared at her sister uneasily, nudging herself out of Peyton's grasp and stepping backward in the direction of the door. "Okay.. You have been doing too many drugs. I gotta go." She then whirled around, making her way to the door knob.

"Wait!" Peyton called desperately, grabbing her sister by the arm and pulling back.

Gracie spun around with an irritated expression, "Let me go!" She shouted.

"Just listen to me for one second."

"No!" Gracie shot back with a scowl. "You never want to talk to me in school anyway. I'm doing you a huge favor." She yanked her arm out of her sister's grip, before turning around and yanking the door open.

"Gracie, please." Peyton's whine came from behind her.

She glanced back at her sister. "I'll see you around." She mumbled, turning and then leaving the bathroom in the next moment.

The bathroom door slammed shut, and Peyton was left alone.

She sighed deeply, leaning against a sink counter and wiping at her sore eyes. She knew that wasn't the right thing to say. Of course not. Voodoo curses? What a joke.

But was it really that impossible?

She didn't have a clue. Really, it was all just a desperate attempt to make sense of the whole situation. She thought her nightmares were strange before, but the fact that Gracie was now having them? She didn't know what to think.

But how could Gracie simply dismiss her like that? It wasn't like she was being mean, she wanted to help!

Peyton huffed through her nostrils, her confusion now turning to irritation.

xx

_"No running in the halls"_

The brightly colored poster on the wall reminded Gracie rather grimly. She was late, around five minutes so. And it wasn't getting any better considering her history class was still a few halls down. And Mrs Hughes, her history teacher, wasn't exactly a merciful lady.

"Stupid Peyton." Gracie muttered angrily under her breath. She wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for her obnoxious sister and her dumb theories. Voodoo? New Orleans? What the fuck was she on? Sure, the nightmares were odd, and it's strange how the two of them had them, but there was most likely a logical explanation to both. There always was.

She hesitated when she came face-to-face with the door of her classroom.

It's now or never, she reminded herself, before slowly turning the knob and letting herself inside.

The room was quiet, and upon entering almost ever student head had turned to see the new presence. Gracie shifted on her feet uncomfortably at the stares, noticing the paper packets that sat on each student's desk.

Oh crap! The realization hit her quickly. The test was today. How could she of forgotten?

A loud and firm clear of the throat caught her attention and she turned her gaze to meet a rather peeved Mrs Hughes. She sat at her desk in the front of the class, looking at Gracie rather intently.

"Do you have a pass?" She finally asked.

"Uh.." Gracie felt herself choking on her words. "No."

Her face became hot when she heard the small giggles coming from the students at their desks. What's so funny?

Mrs Hughes sighed, motioning to Gracie's desk near the back of the class. "Then take your seat."

With her head down, Gracie headed to the back. Dropping into her chair, she set her backpack onto the floor next to her. Digging into her bag, she pulled a pencil to write, just as Mrs Hughes dropped a test packet onto her desk.

"Thanks." Gracie mumbled quietly, flipping the test around to scribble her name at the top.

Mrs Hughes said nothing in return, preferring to silently nod at her student and head back to her seat.

Gracie glanced down at the test in front of her.

All the questions were multiple choice, simple enough really. But for some odd reason, Gracie couldn't get her mind to focus on the problems in front of her. The words looked jumbled and she struggled to align her vision enough to make out the questions in front of her.

The ticking of the wall clock grew more apparent in her ears, making focusing even more difficult. How many minutes have passed exactly?

She glanced around the classroom warily and was surprised to see every other student was working hard on the papers in front of them, scribbling through the test like pros. Everyone but her of course.

A muffled screech suddenly pierced through the silence of the classroom. Gracie's head shot to the location of the noise, her body jerking in a quick defense motion.

A wave of relief washed over her at seeing nothing but a lone tree branch scrape against the glass of the window. She took a well needed deep breath, calming herself considerably.

_It's just a tree, Gracie. Stop being paranoid. _

She glanced down, realizing that her hands were digging into the wood of her desk with a death grip, her knuckles turned into a painful bright shade of white.

_Get it together!_

"Gracie, are you alright?"

Gracie raised her eyes to meet her concerned Mrs Hughes, who watched her sternly from her position behind the large teacher's desk.

Gracie's hands left the table, instead folding themselves neatly across her desk. "Uh.." Her voice wavered slightly. She quickly cleared her throat. "I'm okay. Just a little tired."

She could clearly see Mrs Hughes purse her lips in judgement. "It's important to get a good night sleep before any exam or test. Helps prepare the mind for the upcoming day. You are aware of that, right?"

_A good night sleep. If only.  
_

Gracie resisted rolling her eyes at her teacher's clear display of ignorance_. _There was no point in acting cheeky, a disrespectful attitude would only land her with an F. She knew that without a doubt. And there was no solution in trying to explain to Mrs Hughes about her awful nightmare which left her as paranoid as a Vietnam veteran with PTSD. No point at all.

So she nodded instead, a look of false understanding on her face.

A few long and boring silent minutes past by, and she managed to answer the first four questions on the front page of the test without zoning out.

_"I've been having bad dreams like that too."_

Gracie felt a shiver creep up her spine as she recollected the words of her sister. It was silly, irrational even. But for some reason the conversation from the bathroom just wouldn't leave her mind. She just couldn't shake it off.

The ticking of the wall clock rang in her ears. She stared up at it with utter annoyance. Why did they have to make it so damn loud? Tick Tock. Tick Tock. She put her hands over her ears, trying to block out the bitter noise, but it only grew louder.

Gracie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clumsily knocking her pencil off the desk and onto the nearby floor. It rolled forward from the momentum, before stopping under the chair of the boy seated in front of her.

It wasn't until he bent down to pick it up did Gracie recognize his attire. A red and green sweatshirt.

The horrible dream from last night flashed before her eyes.

_Oh my god! Fuck this.  
_

"Mrs Hughes?" Gracie called out distraught, her voice cracking slightly.

The disgruntled teacher raised her eyes from her novel to meet that of the redheaded student across the room. "What is it?" She asked in a non too friendly tone, annoyed at Gracie for disturbing her peaceful reading time.

"Can I go to the nurse? Please?"

_xx_

Gracie stood on the newly cut track field dressed in black shorts and a loose fitting red T-shirt. Gym was one of the most humiliating classes to date. Even worse than health. She came to that conclusion rather quickly. First off, you had to change in front of other students. Everything was exposed- including but not limited to stretch marks, thick hips, small breasts, scars, and unshaven legs. Then they made you run around in the freezing cold, all while the teachers yelled at you for not trying hard enough as they sat back in warms coats and scarves with a refreshing drink in hand. Sometimes they made you get into team-ups, or groups, and not having a friend in Gym class is a grade A ticket to hell on earth.

She'd do anything to get out of this. But faking period cramps to go to the nurse was obviously out of the question. Mrs Hughes had surprisingly showed a tinge of sympathy when Gracie stood up in the middle of class and said she didn't feel well. In reality, she physically felt fine. It was the mental part that she was worried about.

The nurse had let her lay down and rest until History class ended. Gracie had managed to clear her head in the short amount of time and took precaution as to prevent another freak anxiety attack like that from happening. Who knows what could of happened if Mrs Hughes didn't let her leave. Thank god she did.

She felt refreshed walking out of the nurse's office, like a purge had taken place in her head. But her happy mood soon washed away at realizing that her next class was physical education.

After changing into her gym clothes and putting her hair into a high ponytail, she and the other kids were herded out onto the track field by Mr. Lebel, the school's one and only football coach. She stood alone in the group of teens, shivering from the Autumn breeze as Mr. Lebel explained how many laps around the track he wanted them to do.

"Alright!" Mr. Lebel shouted as loud as a drill instructor. "Get moving!" He blew his whistle, causing all the other kids to begin running steadily down the track.

Gracie sighed bitterly and began jogging in a stable pace with the others, not wanting to overwork herself too much.

"Hey, wait up!" A loud female shout came from behind her. Gracie stopped in place, turning her head in the location of the voice.

Her eyes brightened considerably at seeing the girl jog toward her.

"Julia? I thought you were absent today. I didn't see you at lunch." Gracie commented with a raised brow, eying her good friend up and down. She had known Julia since sixth grade and the two were very close, always whispering and telling secrets. The two were very alike, but also extremely different. While Gracie had bright red hair and fair skin, Julia possessed a olive skin tone with long dark brown hair that stopped at the middle of her back. She was also a lot more curvacious than Gracie, who was noticeably skinny. Although she preferred the term 'lean and mean' over 'stick thin'.

Julia stopped in front of her, catching her breath as she did so. She then stood straight and crossed her arms. "You couldn't get me to eat the school's food even if you tried. Teddy took me out to Burger King."

"Ah." Gracie nodded with a crooked grin. Teddy was a close neighbor of Julia's. Gracie had met him a few times but didn't know much about him besides the fact that he was an eleventh grader. Not to mention a total babe. "You two gonna get together or what?"

"Hah!" Julia laughed loudly, "As if. We're just friends."

Gracie rolled her eyes dramatically, "That's what they all say."

The ring of a loud whistle caused both girls to jump in shock.

"Ladies! This isn't a social hour!"

They turned to see an irritated Mr. Lebel in the distance. Julia narrowed her eyes at him bitterly, "I'd like to see his fat ass come out here and do this." She sneered under her breath.

The two girls giggled as they began jogging side-by-side, gossiping away on the newest trends and celebrity news.

"Did you hear about that girl who swims with great white sharks?" Julia babbled away, wiping sweat off her brow with her elbow.

"Bullshit." Gracie huffed, her legs starting to get sore from the running.

"No really!" Julia exclaimed. "It was all over the news and everything."

Gracie shot her friend a look of disbelief.

"I'm not kidding. Seriously." Julia continued.

"And how does she not die?" Gracie asked with a tilt of her head after a few seconds of silent running.

"I don't know." Julia said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I guess if you have no _fear_ you can do anything."

"No fear, huh?" Gracie scoffed. "More like no brains."

Julia nodded in agreement, "Totally. It's still cool though."

_xx_

After an excruciating exercise-filled day at Gym, Gracie sat on the bench in the locker room, pulling on a pair of yoga pants. Almost all the other girls had finished and gone out to wait for the bell to ring but her. She always waited for the others to leave, not feeling comfortable changing in front of the other girls. It was odd, but she'd always been a little uncomfortable with her body exposed to others, her bony figure not exactly pleasing to the eye. At least not as much as the more curvy girls were. Girls like Julia.

Gracie pulled the yoga pants upward, sliding them to rest on her waist. She then took off her gym T-shirt, tossing it into her locker. She bent down, digging around for her normal shirt in the gym bag.

"What's that?"

A hand poked her on the arm. A startled Gracie jumped backward, whirling herself around to face the new presence.

A small smile grew on Julia's face, "Sorry I scared you."

Gracie calmed, sighing in relief. "It's fine."

Julia was already dressed, as evidenced by her pink tube top and skinny jeans.

"Are you okay?" She asked warily, her head tilted as she eyed Gracie. "You've been a little jumpy lately."

"I'm fine." Gracie said nonchalantly, bending down to pick up her top.

"Your shoulder."

Gracie's head shot up to meet Julia's eyes. "What?"

Julia pointed to the four red cuts which enveloped her upper arm. "What happened?"

Gracie glanced downward, looking at the wound with contemplation. Should I tell her?

No, I don't want to worry her. Julia's always been the kind of girl to overreact.

"A dog attacked me."

Julia raised a brow in disbelief. "A dog. Girl, you don't even own a dog."

"I know." Gracie said with a comical shrug of the shoulders. "It was crazy. I was just walking home and BAM! Dog came up and scratched me real bad." She prodded at the wound, putting on a grimace as she did so. "Still hurts too."

"Did you like call the animal shelter or something?" Julia asked.

Gracie shook her head, still continuing the lie. "It ran off before I could do anything so I just left." She stood from her spot, pulling her shirt over herself and covering the spot of question.

Julia laughed suddenly, buying the lie without hesitation. "Only you are unlucky enough to get attacked by some random dog while walking home."

Gracie forced a smile, "Only me."

The two moved onto other conversations, before making their way out of the locker room and to their next class. Even then, Gracie couldn't help but sneak a glance at her shoulder.

_Dog attack, huh?_

_If only it were that simple. _

_xx_

The dinner table held an eery silence that evening in Gracie's household.

Gracie picked at the mashed potatoes in front of her with a fork, careful to keep her eyes down and away from Peyton. After the little escapade in the school bathroom earlier that day, she didn't feel at all in the mood to interact with her older sister. Peyton seemed to have the same idea, as she mindlessly texted away on her cell phone.

Her father was still at work, as usual. So it was just she, her sister and mother. To be completely honest, Gracie never could really understand why her mother insisted on having family dinners. It wasn't like Gracie had anything interesting to say about her day anyways. And without dad it didn't really feel all that complete.

Her mother watched the two with stern eyes before clearing her throat. "Is anything wrong, girls?"

Gracie glanced up from her food to meet her mother's eyes. "I'm fine, mom."

Her mother raised a brow, eying her plate. "You've hardly touched your food, dear." She commented.

Gracie looked downward at the meal. "I'm really not that hungry to be honest."

Her mother sighed before turning her gaze to Peyton. "And what about you?"

Peyton continued typing away on her phone, not bothering to lift her gaze from the electronic. "What about me?"

"You haven't eaten either."

"So?"

"So?" Her mother lips turned down into a frown. "I made this meal for the a both of you and you hardly give a damn. Do I even get a thank you?"

Gracie cleared her throat, "Thanks mom for cooking." She murmured awkwardly.

"Thanks mom for cooking." Peyton mimicked her sister in a over-the-top girly voice, while simultaneously keeping her gaze to her phone and texting.

Gracie scoffed, narrowing her eyes at Peyton.

God, sometimes she couldn't believe her sister's arrogance. It was becoming unbearable.

"Can I be excused?" Gracie finally asked her mother after a few long moments of silence.

Her mother watched her for a few seconds, as if contemplating her answer, before nodded disappointingly, "Go ahead."

A wave of relief washed over Gracie and she quickly stood from the table, grabbing her plate and heading for the kitchen. After dropping the dirty plate in the sink, she quickly bounded upstairs, not wanting to have any unwanted interaction with Peyton along the way. She knew things were a little heated between the two since this morning, but she didn't understand why Peyton had to be so rude about it.

It must of been the drug comment that got her.

"Once a bitch, always a bitch." Gracie muttered to herself as she pulled her clothes off in the bathroom. A good shower was needed to cool of her nerves.

A feeling of content came over her as she stepped under the steaming shower head. The warm water felt good washing across her chest and face, and she turned, letting it hit her back. Grabbing a bar of soap she washed herself of the daily grime that covered her body. Afterward, she squirted some shampoo on her hand and brought it to her drenched hair, running her fingers back and forth to get every nook and cranny.

After the relaxing shower, Gracie headed into her bedroom and put on a pair of white cotton shorts with a matching white tank top.

She immediately felt frightened at the prospect of going to bed again. She didn't even understand where these feelings of uneasiness came from, or why she had them. It wasn't like she'd never had a nightmare before.

But still, she didn't want to sleep. Not at all.

She held up her time by browsing the internet on her laptop and reading a few comic books that she found lying about her bedroom floor. When the clock struck midnight, Gracie decided that she was hungry. Really hungry.

So she crept downstairs, not wanting to awake anyone and cause even more conflict in her household. She tip-toed into the kitchen, not even bothering to switch on the light as she headed straight for the fridge. Reaching out, she gently gripped the handle and shoved it open.

She squinted, momentarily blinded by the bright light of the fridge. Her eyes slowly but surely adjusted, and it was then that she was able to make out the contents inside. Left over pasta noodles, celery, strawberries, cheese cake, a jar of pickles, orange juice, milk, string cheese-

A loud grumble emitted from Gracie's stomach.

She shut the fridge, dissatisfied with the choices inside. She then decided to give the freezer a try, it wouldn't hurt after all. The freezer was practically empty, safe for some packaged frozen waffles and a tub of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream.

Gracie widened her eyes, a small grin playing at her lips.

She quickly pulled out the ice cream container and shut the fridge. After fetching a spoon, Gracie made her way back to her bedroom, not wanting to stay down stairs any longer as the wind had started picking up outside.

She lay sprawled on her stomach on top of her bed, scooping out globs of ice cream to consume. Although this probably wasn't the most healthiest thing to be eating at the moment, Gracie paid no mind. Hell, she could use some meat on her bones anyway.

After finishing half of the jar, she set it on her nightstand next to her lighten lamp.

Gracie groaned, turning onto her back and clutching her head at the oncoming brain freeze. She let her eyes drop, and suddenly her bed felt a lot more comfortable than usual. Really comfortable, almost too much...

Gracie's eyes opened and she was greeted with darkness. A twinge of confusion ran through her as she sat up fully onto her bed, the hinges creaking as she did so. The lights were off, why were the lights off? She landed her gaze onto her nightstand lamp which no longer shined bright.

She quirked a brow and leaned over to turn it back on.

A loud thud went off in her closet, like something fell off one of the shelves. Gracie tensed almost instantly, sitting up and staring out into the moonlit darkness of her bedroom with rising fright.

_Oh no. Please no. _

Silence shrouded all corners, the only noise being heard were that of Gracie's quiet breaths.

The silence was extremely unnerving, and the longer it went on the more flustered Gracie became.

After a few moments of quiet, she came to the conclusion that she was getting worked up over nothing but a fallen pair of books in the closet. She sighed in relief, scooting her body backward to pull herself under the comforting bed covers.

The door to the closet haltingly began to open, generating a loud threatening creak as it did so. Gracie immediately froze in her movements, her breath momentarily caught in her throat at the noise. She gripped the bed sheets tightly, pulling them close to her face as she peered into the darkness surrounding her form.

Before she could even deliberate what to do, the closet door swung all the way open, slamming into the wall with a bang.

A unwarranted yelp of surprise was wretched from Gracie's throat at the sudden noise, her hands digging into her bed covers just as she did with her classroom desk earlier that day. Barely anything had even happened, but her fear steadily rose as each quiet minute passed.

A muffled pained groan came from the closet, sounding like that of a young female.

A figure covered in shadow suddenly sprinted out through the closet door, stumbling forward and catching itself on the window sill of the bedroom. Every muscle in Gracie's body froze. She was a rock. With the moonlight shining through the glass, a terrified Gracie was able to make out the the murky silhouette that was the figure's form.

It was a girl.

She was malnourished, her frail fingers clutching the window sill as tightly as Gracie held her sheets. Her body was covered in a flimsy white night dress, which bared a few holes and tears. And blood, there was a large glob of blood across her chest. The gown flowed eerily on it's own, as there was no wind in sight. It was dirty, like it hadn't been washed in years, and hung off her like torn rags. The girl's hair was short and blonde, hanging limp over her face, concealing it to anyone.

Gracie stared, frozen and frightened at the young girl in her bedroom. The mysterious girl took wheezing breaths, muttering somber whispers as she did so. It was almost as if it was paining her to even take a simple breath.

Gracie held her bed covers over half her face, frantically contemplating what to do. Her eyes were drilled to the bizarre girl at her window. By sheer will she managed to direct them to the bedroom door and she briefly thought about making a dash for it. But who knows where that would led to. She was aware that she was dreaming, she knew that quite clearly now.

So she fixed her gaze back on the girl.

A face full of ants stared right back at her, the girl's skin a deteriorating gray with cracks at her forehead. A home for the insects which seeped out of her temple. Gray. Her skin looked gray.

For a brief moment their eyes stayed locked in complete silence.

And then the girl's face contorted in rage and she charged right at Gracie, arms outstretched like claws, growling in pure fury.

Gracie wasn't sure how she felt at that exact moment, or what face she wore. Most likely somewhere between utterly shocked and completely horrified. She barely registered the fact that the girl now sprinted straight at her, all while howling like a wild banshee.

Gracie shrieked loudly in terror, flinging the bed covers over her head as a weak means of protection. Her mind was in a daze as she frantically propelled her body backward, letting out a grunt of pain as her head connected roughly with the bed's backboard. She fell off her bed, the covers still wrapped around her form. Gracie was hysteric, her body full of adrenaline as she scrambled herself as far as she could crawl before her back hit the wall.

She huddled in the corner for a moment, her body shaking and her breathing loud.

Silence fell over the room once more.

She still held the covers over herself, and after a few minutes of deliberation, she gained enough courage to peek her head up from underneath them.

The room was empty.

Gracie took big breaths, glancing around her bedroom in disbelief.

No one was there.

Crickets could be heard chirping away outside her window.

I'm awake now, Gracie told herself. I'm awake.

"It's okay." She whispered out loud in a reassuring manner, her voice wavering.

She slowly stood herself from the wooden floor, the sheets now draped over her shoulders as she clutched them close to her body like a cloak. Her throat felt unnaturally parched as she swallowed deeply, her face contorting into a grimace from the sharp sting that shot through her dry throat.

_I need water. Ice cold water._

She turned to face the bedroom door, moving her hand forward to grip the doorknob.

Gracie stopped suddenly, her grip still on the doorknob. A strange '_thumping' _sound could be heard outside her door. Footsteps. Long strides, and they were growing closer in sound.

Someone was out there.

_Maybe it's mom coming in to check on me_, Gracie reasoned with herself, still not budging from her spot.

As her mind wondered onto other possibilities to dispel her fear, a muffled voice came from outside the door. "Guess again, piglet."

Gracie went silent, uncontrolled horror paralyzing her in place. _No, not him. Anything but that. _

She needed to hide, she needed to be somewhere else, anywhere but here. Gracie frantically looked around her room for a hiding place, her heart nearly bursting out of her chest as she heard a raspy chuckle emit from behind the door, the footsteps drawing in closer. Her eyes darted to the window but quickly dismissed the idea. It would take too long to undo the hatch anyway, and even after that she would have to kick off the screen. And she didn't even consider venturing into her closet after that enraged lunatic jumped out of there before. The bed was also an alternative. Even then, her options were extremely limited.

Gracie turned and saw a large shadow streak across the wall from under the door. Her time was almost up.

She sprinted to her bed, not even bothering to stay quiet anymore. It wouldn't matter, would it? He was aware that she was in there anyway. She threw herself down onto her stomach, pulling her body forward and sliding under the small mattress with ease.

It was silent for a few moments and Gracie laid as still as a boulder.

Suddenly, seven loud knocks came through the door in a song-like pattern.

_Was he knocking? _If she wasn't in such a dire situation then she could of almost found that comical. Almost.

"Little pig, little pig. Let me in!"

A loud thud came from behind the door, followed by a banging crash that completely knocked it off it's hinges. The door tumbled to the floor with a bang, splintered wood and dust flying.

_He kicked down the door. He kicked down the fucking door!_

Gracie shoved her hand against her mouth, suppressing a cry. The man stood in the doorway, although only his feet and lower legs were visible to her. Dark slacks and work boots. Gracie's blood ran cold at the sight of the four familiar long barbed razors that sat stiffly at the end of his right arm. There were the same ones he tried to attack her with the night before. Only now, they were splattered in red.

Gracie swallowed deeply.

Freddy was his name, wasn't it? She watched as he calmly strode his way into her bedroom, causally kicking some of the debris from the broken door which unfortunately slid it's way under the bed with her.

Freddy. He was in Peyton's dreams too.

Her eyes were glued to him as he walked into the center of the room, humming a simple tune as he did so.

_Please go away, please go away. _She felt herself blinking back tears that begged to be let out.

He clicked his blood-stained blades together a few times, and Gracie could feel herself grow nauseous just from the fear building inside her.

He needed to leave. Fuck, she needed to leave.

After a few more minutes of waiting, he finally turned for the door. Once he cleared through the door frame Gracie took a much needed breath, her ribs feeling sore from the position she was in. He was gone, she felt triumphant almost. _I'm gonna be okay. _

For good measure she waited, not knowing if she should get up or stay under the bed forever. She could wait out until waking up, but would that even work? What if he came back? She bit her lip, turning her body to face the doorway and pull herself out.

Two dark eyes stared right back at her. "Boo."

Gracie let out a horrific scream as the man known as Freddy lifted her entire bed upward, before tossing it to the side as if it was a simple piece of trash. He then leered down at Gracie, soulless eyes boring into her's like a cat watching a mouse.

She screeched when he lunged for her, and she quickly propelled her body backward, nearly getting sliced in the process. Freddy's claw missed his target and instead pierced the floor, causing the short-tempered dream demon to roar in fury. He began yanking his right arm back, attempting to force the blades out from the floorboards.

_I need a weapon. I need something!_ Gracie frantically searched for another object that was near and could possibly be of use. Picture frame? No. Empty soda can? Nope! Underwear? He'd probably like that. Her eyes brightened as she caught visual of the lamp which sat on her nightstand. She went for it, just as Freddy yanked the knives out of the floorboard with a triumphant grin.

His celebration was cut short as a lamp slammed roughly into the side of his head, sending shards of broken glass everywhere. He grunted, not in pain, just from the shock of what she just did. Gracie didn't waste time waiting around as she quickly sprinted past him, making her way to the door. To safety. Anywhere away from Freddy that is.

She ran as fast as she could through the door frame and into the hallway, only now it was completely different. She found herself in a long maze of mirrors, distorted images of herself lingering at every corner. Even the floor and ceiling was a mirror.

Gracie had been in a hall of mirrors before, just like every kid who had gone to the carnival at least once. It was an enjoyable experience to be able to run through the corridor with friends and try to find which wall was real and which was a mirror. But this was different. This wasn't a simple maze.

This was a nightmare.

She whirled herself around to only see the horrified reflection of herself staring back at her. Her bedroom was nowhere to be found. She wasn't in her house anymore, never was.

A loud ear piercing screech went off in the distance, like knife on glass. Gracie couldn't determine where it came from, it seemed to reverberate off the walls, but she knew exactly who did it. Without waiting around any longer she began moving forward through the disorienting maze, her pace fast and quick.

With her hands in front of her she felt her way through, desperately trying to differentiate between wall and mirror.

Another screech, much more closer then before. Gracie began crying, her head in a complete daze as she stumbled her way through the twisted corridor.

Her sobbing reflection surrounded all corners, mocking her.

Turning a corner, Gracie froze in place.

"Peyton?"

Her sister's form replaced her reflection at the end of the mirrored hall. She stared blankly ahead, unblinking.

"Peyton!" Gracie tried again, running forward and pushing her hands against the mirror. "Peyton!"

Peyton's eyes looked down to meet her's, face still blank, before contorting into a horrible grimace. "Get the fuck away from me!"

Gracie's widened at her sister's harsh insult, but she persisted, yet again banging her hands against the glass, "Peyton, it's me. It's Gracie!"

Peyton sneered down at her sister, "I know it's you, dumbass."

Gracie flinched, she always hated when Peyton called her that. And she never let up on doing it. Not ever. "Please.. Why are-"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Gracie's hands left the glass and she felt herself slowly move backwards, eyes trained on her sister.

"Why don't you ever leave me alone, huh?" Peyton tilted her head in accusation. "I don't like you, and nobody at school hardly does. Why can't you just get your own friends and stop clinging to me like a leech?"

Gracie covered her ears, tears springing at the corners of her eyes. _This wasn't Peyton. _

Her heart sunk at the cruel insults, despair taking over her mind. Gracie backed away as her sister continued to berate her from behind. She needed to go, she needed to leave this place forever. She ran back the way she came, but found herself slamming into a mirror instead.

"No-" Gracie whispered. The path was gone, she was trapped.

"You'd be better off dead." She heard Peyton snap from behind.

Gracie had heard enough, and she began pounding the mirror with her fists. She didn't even pay attention to the scrapes and cuts that arose on her hands, blood oozing down her arms as shattered the glass. Her mind was focused on getting out and only getting out.

The wall gave through and she forced herself inside, stumbling forward onto another cold and bare floor. She forced herself up and ran, tears now pouring out of her eyes like a waterfall. The corridor was narrow and tight, just another demented fun house constructed to confuse her.

She didn't even register when she roughly slammed into a dead end. Gracie looked up at the dull wall in a daze. A dead end. There was no where to go. She was trapped.

"They run and they hide. But I always find them." A charred voice snickered from behind her.

Gracie's heart skipped a beat.

A rough hand suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder, whirling her around and slamming her back cruelly into the wall. Gracie was cornered, like a rat in a trap as Freddy leered down at her, his dark eyes taking in a good portion of her scraped and bruised body. She couldn't sob, she couldn't even beg. He was going to kill her.

She yelped when he pushed himself toward her, the razors blades on his right hand slightly piercing her waist.

He grunted, breathing her in through his nostrils, the scent of strawberries filling his burnt nose. He grinned at that, and Gracie whimpered softly, turning her face away from him, eyes glued shut in terror. He was disgusting, she felt like vomiting.

Freddy relished in the fear that she gave off, like a fearful mouse being caught by a cat, and it suddenly gave him another idea. His left hand founds it's way to her own and he gripped it tightly, registering another yelp from her.

A wicked smirk grew on his lips as he jerked her hand up to his face. "You look good enough to _eat." _

A horrible crunch hit the air, and Gracie felt fire surge through her forearm, the pain splintering across her wrist. She howled and shrieked as Freddy's teeth sunk into her pointer finger, the bones inside cracking like wrinkled paper being torn. The pain was unlike anything she had ever felt before, unbearable, and she twisted and turned like a caged animal but Freddy was inhumanly strong, and easily held her down against the wall with his weight.

Her nerves felt like pulsating electricity, a horrible crackle of bone snapping filling the entire room as he literally ripped her finger off with this mouth.

Gracie sobbed like she never sobbed before, her face a puffy red, globs of wet tears streaming down her cheeks and neck as agonizing pain consumed her entire body.

Her finger was gone. It was fucking gone.

Freddy grinned sadistically down at her sobbing form, her pointer finger still between his teeth, blood coating his lower mouth. Without hesitating, he swallowed it whole.

"Mmm.. Tasty!" A raspy laugh left his throat.

Still sobbing, Gracie felt herself become swallowed by the darkness.

_A/N: She isn't dead lol. I know the ending sounds kinda like that but this chapter was soo long and I wanted it to end already. I hope it's okay. Reviews would be really nice, maybe some constructive criticism idk.  
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